The Luxorian Fugitive

by J. Alan Veerkamp

  “I’m Captain Marc Danverse.” He shook Hadrian’s hand. “And this is my security chief, Sergeant Liam Jacks.” As Hadrian turned and traded greetings, Liam got his first proper look at the hooded man. Hadrian was above average in size, just a little shorter than Danverse. His hand was veined and strong. He sported wild, long, dark hair and facial stubble over an olive complexion and had the most entrancing eyes Liam had ever looked into. Thick dark eyelashes outlined the white in stark contrast to ice-blue irises ringed in sapphire. It was otherworldly, and he was gorgeous. Liam found a heat rising in his chest as those beautiful eyes looked up at him through the haphazard locks of hair falling around his face.

  “Do you have any other belongings to load?” Danverse asked, glancing at where Liam’s and Hadrian’s hands were still touching.

  “No, thank you. The bag I am carrying is all I need.” Hadrian nodded to the pack slung over his shoulder. He hesitantly removed his hand from Liam’s.

  “Then I can show you to your quarters.” With one outstretched hand and the other lightly at Hadrian’s back, Liam directed this last passenger up the steps. He noticed Danverse watching them with a crooked eyebrow as they passed. His mouth was slightly open, but he didn’t say a word as they stepped on board. What the hell was that odd look about?

  “THESE ARE YOUR quarters.” Liam keyed open the door as Hadrian watched the simple procedure with an unusual intensity. The room was virtually identical to every other living space on board, save the captain’s. Basic amenities were provided: bed, storage, lights, and privacy.

  Hadrian’s reply was gentle and polite. “Thank you, Sergeant. But I did not require a personal escort.”

  “I don’t mind.” He pointed at the panel mounted to the wall. “This screen has all the info, maps, meal times, et cetera you should need while on board. Subspace Link works through this panel as well. Mrs. Claus, the ship’s AI, only responds to ship personnel.” Liam was trying, with little success, not to stare like a lecher at his guest. He couldn’t even see Hadrian’s physique through the bulky robe, but he was drawn to him. Somehow he resisted the urge to reach out and touch.

  “Is this a business trip?” Liam asked.

  “I have someone to meet on Alpha Centauri.”

  “Oh. Is it a permanent move?”

  “If I am fortunate, I will never set eyes on this planet again.”

  Liam could hear the sadness and exhaustion underlining the words. Recognized them because he knew their soul-deadening weight so well. Hadrian was bearing it admirably, but the weariness was beginning to seep through. An urge to help welled up in Liam. He wanted to wrap his arms around the smaller man and let him know it would be all right, but had no idea where the sensation was coming from.

  Hadrian softened for a moment and looked up into Liam’s eyes, exploring their depth. Liam had the distinct impression he was being examined. While Hadrian didn’t smile, Liam could have sworn his expression shifted to some kind of innocent gratitude. It had been a long time since anyone fascinated Liam so quickly.

  “Thank you so much for your kindness, Sergeant.” Hadrian turned away. “I should get some rest, and I am sure you have many responsibilities more important than me before we lift off. It has been a very long day.”

  Liam couldn’t help noticing Hadrian’s fatigue. “You don’t look like you’ve had much sleep.”

  “I could say the same to you, but I think that would be a story for another time.”

  “Okay.” Reluctantly, Liam backed out of the room. “If you need anything, I’m in number 204, on the other end of Beta deck with the rest of the crew. If I’m not there, the status panel can let you know where I am. And please, call me Liam.”

  Hadrian nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Seriously, if you need anything…”

  “Thank you, Liam. It was a pleasure to meet you.” Hadrian gave a small but genuine smile as he pressed the panel, sliding the door back into place.

  Liam stared for several minutes at the closed hatch, feeling giddy and stupid. He made a silent oath that he would get to know Hadrian Jamison better. He had plenty of time; the trip would take several weeks. But first, he needed to adjust himself. He was aroused and uncomfortable in a way that hadn’t happened since he was a teenager.

  THE SANTA CLAUS’S rough vibrations stopped once it cleared Luxoria’s atmosphere. A few calculations and the bridge crew directed the large vessel into the vector of Alpha Centauri. Once free of the planet’s gravity well, Danverse gave the order to open up the throttle and get the ship up to cruising speed. The engine’s fuel cells were full and more than ready to burn for the next seven weeks to their next port.

  Once the pilot and navigator were settled, Danverse headed back to his private quarters. The takeoff had gone smoothly enough, but he was on edge. The crew had learned long ago to ride these moments out. They followed orders and did what they were told but stayed out of his way.

  As the door closed behind him, Danverse stripped off his shirt and threw it on the desk. He opened a storage panel and pulled out an amber bottle of Centauri-distilled bourbon. Pouring two fingers into a glass, he took a deep drink, wincing as the vapors assaulted his throat and nostrils. Reaching back with a firm hand, he tried to release the tension at the base of his skull. He didn’t know where this temper was coming from.

  That wasn’t true. He knew full well why he was so pissed off. Fucking Hadrian Jamison.

  Liam couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

  Of course, he couldn’t. The man was stunning.

  Usually, Danverse was rational enough to know Liam would never be completely happy with him. The natural dominance that made him a good captain extended to every aspect of his life, including—someday, he hoped—his mate. Being in charge wasn’t enough; he required an extreme level of control as well.

  But Liam only responded to that level of direction and discipline as a method of self-punishment. When Liam finally freed himself of his inner demons, and Danverse hoped someday he would, Liam wouldn’t need that side of his best friend. A rational man would accept it and let his best friend go to find a way to make himself happy.

  Danverse wasn’t feeling 100 percent rational at the moment.

  How could he? Every time he relived the previous night’s session with Liam, even for a moment, he would start to harden, which wasn’t easy to hide in these trousers. So far, Liam was the only one who had indulged his darker side to this level. Others had tried, but no one else needed him the way Liam had.

  It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried. He populated his crew exclusively with non-hetero men to increase his chances, but it could be very lonely in space. He had once thought about Mac filling that role. The brawny tech was the physical type that caught his attention and was always eager to please. Amid all the raucous jokes, there was a glimmer of innocence in Mac’s eyes Danverse found appealing. But he knew he would ruin that if they became close. He always did. Perhaps that was the real reason he couldn’t give Liam up.

  Danverse wasn’t quite ready to face that reality.

  “Mrs. Claus.” He polished off his drink with a hard swallow. “Subspace Link. I want all available information on passenger Hadrian Jamison. Send everything to my monitor.”

  “Of course, Captain.”

  Pouring another bourbon, he walked with drink in hand to the monitor mounted on the wall above his desk. Mrs. Claus had fed the statistics to the screen. An image of Hadrian was displayed on the left, with his biodata and information in a scrolling pattern down the right. He eyed the information carefully, looking for any discrepancies. Over and over, he read the data. Everything seemed in place. It all looked legitimate.

  But there wasn’t enough of it.

  Danverse glared at the screen as he gripped his drink, threatening to shatter the glass. The history and data were minimal. A citizen of a planet like Luxoria would have endless pages to view. Even the lowest-born men and women were cataloged ad nauseam. Sorting through th
e other passengers’ histories before their arrival had taken a ridiculous amount of time. What was in this data sheet could have been written in ten minutes.

  This was a fake. He was sure of it.

  Chapter Three

  LIAM DIDN’T UNDERSTAND what was wrong with Danverse. The captain had been short with him since they left Luxoria the previous day and would offer no explanation. The man who wanted to delve into his psyche after an explosive whip-and-come night was suddenly not being very forthcoming. Whatever was at the core of his mood would fade, and everything would soon be back to normal. It was just so fucking annoying when Danverse was surly. Maybe the rest of the crew had the right idea: steer clear of their grumbling commander until the storm passed. However long that would take.

  Thankfully, Liam had duties that would keep him busy through the majority of the voyage.

  He sighed and rubbed the base of his skull as his pad continued scanning yet another cargo container. The jet-black pad fit in the palm of his hand, sporting a few scuffs and scratches along the edges. The outside might not have been pristine, but like everything else on the ship, the tech was top rate, something Mac prided himself on.

  The cargo bays were nearly full, which would bring a healthy wage. One of the few things to pull a grin from the captain’s face—even if it was short-lived given his current mood. Large chests were stacked high in the endless rooms. The Santa Claus had four main cargo holds at the rear of the vessel. They were designed to transport military vehicles, so the space was vast. Liam made a slow pace down the narrow alleys between the crates. Severe shadows loomed in every corner with the lighting blocked in so many directions. If he didn’t know he was the only person in the area, he might have been nervous.

  In spite of customs prescanning, Liam insisted on screening each box himself after leaving port. If something dangerous appeared, it was going out the airlock. After finding a micro-nuke in a container three years ago, he was taking no chances. It was a long process, but it was a duty he took seriously.

  Liam continued to catalog the contents. A number of crates were filled with clothing being shipped to various shops. One crate was filled with all the personal items Dr. Cellus had acquired on his sabbatical. Another contained Luxorian jade and Irithium jewelry, a collection of exceptional value. This list went on and on.

  “Boss?” Mac’s voice came through the com. Usually every decibel would echo there, but in the packed room, it sounded normal for a change.

  “Yeah, Mac. What’s up?” Liam continued reading the scan of the next crate in line.

  “Uh…lunch. You coming?”

  “No, thanks. I’m only in the second cargo bay.” Liam fingered the hologram of the crate’s interior, spinning the three-dimensional image, and inspected the contents. “This place is full.”

  “No kidding, boss. But you already missed breakfast. That shit can wait. You have weeks to catalog it all.”

  “Really, Mac. I need to make some more progress on this. I’ll see you at supper.” Liam tapped the screen, dissolving the image, and then aimed the pad to begin the next scan.

  Mac’s voice continued to chirp through the com. “Mrs. Claus, I’m going to run personal diagnostics on Sergeant Jacks’s equipment. Please power down and disconnect all tools and scanners connected to his work protocols for one hour. Tech command alpha-papa-one-zero-seven-alpha.”

  Every device in Liam’s possession went dark and lifeless. With an exasperated growl, he pressed the pad over and over to resume his work, even though he knew it was hopeless. He dropped his arms to his sides and rolled his eyes, releasing a defeated breath.

  Liam chuckled as he spoke. “Oh, you little bitch.”

  “See you in the mess hall, boss.” The com shut itself off.

  Liam slipped the dead data pad into his pocket and stowed the rest of the scanning tools in the various pouches lining the legs of his work pants. The well-worn, sturdy fabric was meant to fit loosely, but around Liam’s thick haunches, it showed off every curve and bulge. Liam couldn’t really say he minded.

  As soon as he began thinking of the mess hall, his stomach growled, and he laughed. There was so much work to do, but he shouldn’t have skipped breakfast. Mac was right, as usual. Liam couldn’t remember the last time the man had been wrong about something. The hyperactive little guy was constantly analyzing everything around him. It wasn’t surprising he had every option calculated before he proceeded with anything.

  Once Liam exited the hold, the large blast door hissed shut and he punched his personal security code into the keypad. With the potential value of the contents and their paychecks at stake, Liam insisted on something more than a DNA scan to access the hold during flight time. The last thing he wanted was a group of raiders boarding the ship and chopping off his hand to run rampant through the payload. The captain called him paranoid but acquiesced in the end.

  The Santa Claus had been fortunate. Raiders seemed to leave the ex-military vessel alone. They had one of the highest safety records in the cluster for transport. An attack was still a real possibility, but this ship came with weapons, and most raiders didn’t carry the firepower to overwhelm it. So far, it seemed it wasn’t worth the effort.

  After checking the locks on all four holds, he proceeded to the lift. When he stepped off into the hallway, his stomach groaned even louder. The mess hall was to the right, and it smelled wonderful. Apparently Gamin, the cook, was trying to impress the guests.

  The hall was clean and, like the rest of the ship, full of gray metal. The benches and tables were set up in rows with a cafeteria-style buffet separating the dining zone from the visible kitchen. The majority of the crew were seated and enjoying the meal. Gamin, a prematurely gray man in his early fifties, was behind the counter serving. The personable polar bear was a master at working with real and synthesized rations but admitted a penchant for sampling his own work as he patted his rounded belly. Liam picked up a tray and Gamin immediately placed a full bowl on it.

  “Only one choice today?” Liam asked.

  Gamin winked at him. “For you, yes. Captain’s orders.” Liam was about to protest when the scent hit his nose. Bandish stew. He looked down at the savory concoction, his mouth open, and then back up to Gamin. It smelled just like his mother’s recipe.

  “How did you get the ingredients for this?”

  “I have my ways. Now go sit down before it goes cold, son.”

  Liam grabbed a cup of water from the dispenser and looked across the mess hall. The majority of the crew were eating and socializing, except those who were on a night shift or unable to leave their station. Even the passengers were there. Dr. Davis Cellus was talking with a few of the men and clearly availing himself of the Santa Claus’s hospitality. No doubt some of the men were looking at him as a new playmate. He seemed quite happy to be on board. Marley Keyes sat alone, looking as agitated as he did when he arrived. He continued to keep his satchel close to his side as he glared suspiciously at every man around him. Liam wondered if Keyes thought he was going to be robbed, riding with this group of roughnecks. It might be worth keeping an eye on the man.

  Liam turned to find Danverse waving him over to a table, dressed in a black thermal and gray breeches. Sitting next to him was a certain head tech mechanic with a giant toothy grin. He wore one of his usual sets of overalls, with a grease mark gracing his nose. Some things would never change. Liam put his tray on the table and sat across from the pair.

  “I told you I could get him to come to lunch, Cap’n.” Mac puffed his chest out with pride.

  “I was beginning to think you were going to catalog all the cargo nonstop.” Danverse said as Liam stuffed a huge spoonful of the stew into his mouth. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head. It was just like he remembered his mother’s. “I almost did.” Speaking while still chewing, he pointed his spoon at Mac. “Until this little fucker did an override shutdown on all my equipment.”

  The captain began laughing out loud. “I do love your ability to get
things done, Mac.”

  “I may be a little crazy, Cap’n, but I know how to take orders.”

  The grin Danverse gave Mac was almost heated. “That’s a good thing. I’d hate to have Gamin’s efforts go to waste.” He gave a satisfied smile as Liam continued to devour the bowl in front of him. “How’s the stew?”

  “Fantastic.” Another loaded scoop filled his mouth. “Thank you.”

  Danverse nodded as Liam inhaled the obvious peace offering. He must have had Gamin collect the ingredients for the stew at the Luxorian port. Liam’s embarrassment over the scene after his nightmare seemed unimportant and petty, as his best friend was proving his ability to take care of him in a different way altogether. He found he could set aside his problems for a short while and enjoy a good meal in the home of his choice.

  Mac smiled at Danverse. “Would you like another drink, Cap’n?”

  “Thank you, Mac. I would, yes.” He smiled back, his gaze trailing after Mac as the tech eagerly hopped up from his seat. Danverse turned back to Liam.

  “How’s the inventory going?”

  “Barely half done. We need to adjust a few clients’ invoices. Some of the contents were more valuable than declared on their orders…” Liam trailed off as he saw Hadrian enter the mess hall.

  He was still wearing the bulky robe and leggings, but his hood was drawn back, revealing his unruly head of dark hair. Even through the thick locks attempting to cover his face, his eyes could be seen across the room. His full lips shone inside the dark stubble painting his jawline. He walked to the buffet where Gamin served him with a jovial, yet mesmerized, smile. Carrying his tray, he headed toward a table in the far corner of the room. Throughout the hall, curious crew members turned in Hadrian’s direction, the lust on their faces a tangible thing. Hadrian winced and hastened to his seat, avoiding the stares.